tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53875611329778806092018-05-28T23:15:16.334-07:00Transitionsnrednoreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-79325221656634652292010-03-06T02:14:00.001-08:002013-12-20T05:14:41.989-08:00Tokyo Revisited<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/S5Itn1OUd1I/AAAAAAAAAtg/UHurDLUxdDg/s1600-h/P1040289.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/S5Itn1OUd1I/AAAAAAAAAtg/UHurDLUxdDg/s400/P1040289.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445465061769639762" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This week I went to Tokyo for a couple of days on business. I was last in Japan in the fall of 2003, but only went to Hiroshima that time. It's probably been fifteen years at least since I've been in downtown Tokyo. I forgot less Japanese than I feared, probably because I watch some Japanese television in Shanghai. But much seemed unfamilar to me---in part because I've forgotten, but also because things have changed. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">What struck me most, was not new buildings, subway lines and stops, or shops, or even the signs of decline---the merger of Sumitomo and Mitsui Banks, once proud houses in their own right, or the obvious decline of Japanese department stores, some of which have even gone out of business. It was the change of mood in the country. When I lived in Japan some 30 years ago, it was the era of "Japan as Number One", when troupes of American and European businessmen made pilgrimages to the country to learn about quality and inventory control, problem solving, and kaizen. This was before the rise of China, and Japan was the economic powerhouse that seemed to threaten all. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"> The Japanese themselves seem bewildered by how fast things have changed. For them, too, all eyes are now on China, and Japan seems to have been passed by. I have to say, even Tokyo did not seem crowded to me--as if half the population had retired and moved to the country. The subway at rush hour was not as packed as Shanghai's, and famous streets like Ginza seemed nearly empty. Seoul has a lot more bustle these days. My memory of Tokyo is of masses of people, rushing everywhere---with order, but haste. Now, the crush of the crowd seems less, and the pace decidedly more desultory as well. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">I only went to Japan a few times during the 1990s, which is now referred to as the "lost decade." I met up with some old colleagues (one from 25 years ago), and they said that younger generation in Japan that grew up during the 90s is both disillusioned and without the work ethic of days past. Though a lot of hope was put in the change of power a few months ago when the LDP was defeated after 50 years in power, that hope has pretty much dissipated (sounds familiar, doesn't it?) Just before I went to Japan, I saw a TV program on NHK that was about homeless people in Tokyo. There were homeless even when I was living there many years ago, but they were really on the fringe---now, due to job losses, it is a big problem. Changes in the labor laws in the country in the past few years have also created a much larger contingent workforce, with little to no job security (this is being cited in Japan as one cause of Toyota's recent troubles, since contingent workers are said to have less commitment to quality). </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">One person said to me that it has been difficult for Japanese to adjust to the fact that there is now truly poverty in the country, as in the days right after World War II. Then, Japan "rose from the ashes" to become an economic superpower, full of drive and ambition and with prosperity for the majority. Now, it seems to be in a fog, with no clear path and its young too disillusioned to lead the way, cowed by the great economic engine to the west, China. Demographics do not favor a second coming, either---by 2025 more than 25% of the population will be over 65. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-20725950850382109402010-01-18T05:40:00.000-08:002010-01-18T06:41:03.635-08:00Harbin<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/S1RobStdzCI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/KAZDype6tSI/s1600-h/Stsophia.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 353px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/S1RobStdzCI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/KAZDype6tSI/s400/Stsophia.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428078268976581666" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/S1RoJXCYTSI/AAAAAAAAAtI/MRP8TZ4f1v4/s1600-h/StSophia2.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;text-decoration: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></div></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Over the weekend, I took a tour to Harbin. Harbin is in what used to be Manchuria, in the north of China. In recent years it has become famous for a spectacular ice and snow festival with replicas and statues made of ice, but it has an equally fascinating place in history.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial, serif;"> China was quite weak from the late 19th century, and the great powers essentially carved the country up into "special interest" zones. Manchuria was close to both Russia and Japan, and as a resource rich area, was fought over by all three powers in the late 1800s to early 1900s. When I was in graduate school, I wrote my master's thesis about the relations among Japan, the U.S. and China during the 1920's, a time when Japan was consolidating control over Manchuria and a lucrative railroad that ran through this area. Later, Japan annexed the area and formed a puppet state called Manchukuo, putting the last emperor of China, Puyi, as the titular head. Harbin was the site of some horrific Japanese war crimes reminiscent of Nazi Germany in their cruelty and dehumanization--we toured the secret "germ warfare" laboratory and compound masterminded by the Japanese equivalent of Mengele, Shiro Ishii. There, Chinese prisoners from around the country were transported for live human experiments including vivisection, and most perished. The Japanese bombed the site, called block 731, but did not destroy it completely. Local villagers came forward with artifacts from the site, and the Chinese government was able to piece together the story of this atrocity from their accounts and evidence. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">During the period leading up to 1920 after the Bolshevik Revolution, many Russians including a large population of Jews fled their war torn country and settled in Harbin--in fact, in 1925 fully a third of the population of Harbin was Russian. The Russian influence can still be seen with restaurants and the famous St. Sophia's church (above). There are also synagogues, though none are supposedly functioning. Some German Jews also relocated to the city during the 1930s, and some further relocated to Kobe, Japan, where they received refuge during the war. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">The ice festival is of more recent origin, and is really spectacular--especially the night show. Every year there is a different theme, and this year it is the 60th anniversary of the founding of the PRC, so there are replicas of famous Chinese buildings including a rendition of the Great Wall and the Great Hall of the People. Another park, called Sun Island, has sculptures made not only by Chinese, but international ice sculptors as well. Ice is brought from the frozen Songhua River in early December, and sculptors work around the clock until several thousand structures and statues are completed in late December. The ice festival officially opens in early January for local residents, and an onslaught of tourists ensues until late February, when the ice begins to thaw. The structures are then disassembled (the smaller ones are allowed to melt in place) and ice is returned to the river.</span></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzwlM_AcexRyfW8goROITZYYPEapGNNUGGy9Qj0EjOJb3Eq0fqVFRgyjPu00PUGbqPVSaG7ddYYI9VRWDtGog' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0' /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">Harbin is also home to hundreds of Siberia tigers, a conservation effort designed to blunt China's poor image in harvesting these animals for their bones which are an important ingredient in traditional Chinese medicine. The TIger Park also houses Bengal tigers (also an endangered species), ligers (a cross between a female tiger and a male lion), jaguars, white or snow tigers, and a few lions.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/S1RrX3rYVkI/AAAAAAAAAtY/guMAveE3qoI/s400/tiger4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428081508715353666" />nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-24774609816899250762010-01-05T14:48:00.001-08:002010-01-06T05:49:45.765-08:00Back in Shanghai<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">After a restful but busy month traveling to the U.S., Panama, and Mexico, I'm back in Shanghai. I moved into a new place downtown, closer to subways and activity, and it also has central heating. Shanghai generally doesn't get that cold, but it has high humidity so it can feel a lot colder than the temperature indicates. I'll still be shuttling back and forth between China and Korea, with a trip to Japan also planned for the end of the month.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">Tonight I went to a Chinese masseur to have a foot massage. I have something called a Morton's Neuroma, which is an inflammation--scar tissue actually--on the nerve between the 3rd and 4th toe. It's a fairly common injury, in my case probably from a broken toe several years ago. It doesn't bother me constantly, but on occasion, it can be annoying and painful, and when irritated burns and throbs even when I'm not standing or walking. I got some orthotics to lessen the irritation and I wear sensible shoes, but they don't completely do the job. In the U.S., the "cure" is to have surgery to have the nerve removed, but many people have complications from this surgery that can be worse than the original problem. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">I've been reading a lot about Chinese traditional medicine, acupuncture and massage. Although I tried reflexology in the States, it really didn't work very well for me. Deep tissue massage is common here, and after talking to a colleague who had a similar problem, I had a 30 minute session tonight. It's quite painful, and likely I'll have to have more than one session, but I'm hoping that it at least lessens the frequency. Even if not, it won't break the bank---one session was about $9. <br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-85603558980399288142009-11-21T06:55:00.000-08:002009-11-21T06:55:00.271-08:00Korea<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I spent most of the past week in Korea, and part of almost every week since I returned to Asia in October. It's a beautiful country, though I haven't had a chance to do much sightseeing. I have picked up a little Korean, though not as much as Chinese. The Korean language is very similar grammatically to Japanese, and although there a few common words and the inflections/body language are practically identical, the vocabulary is quite different (it shares some roots with Chinese, however). The head of our operation there, who also speaks Japanese, thinks I could pick it up reasonably well if I studied intensively for three months or so. Unlike Japanese, Korean uses a syllabary rather than Chinese characters, so learning to read it is pretty simple, and I can already make out words (even though I don't know what they mean). Koreans also study Chinese characters in school, which helps them if they try to learn Chinese or Japanese, but one person told me that many students don't study the subject with very much focus. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It used to be that speaking Japanese in Korea was almost taboo. The history between the two countries is rocky--in the 20th century, Japan occupied Korea, and Koreans forcibly taken to Japan, as well as their children and succeeding generations-- were long treated as second class citizens. During the occupation of Korea from 1905 (Korea was annexed five years later) to the end of World War II, the Japanese ruled with an iron hand, and essentially tried to obliterate Korean culture (an ironic thing, since Korea has contributed richly to Japanese culture). Koreans were forced to learn Japanese, which certainly explains their later reluctance to use the language. There were many other atrocities, including the well known use of Korean "comfort women" during World War II. Tensions continue, in part because as with China, the Japanese have never really come clean on the atrocities they committed in the name of Imperialism--e.g., they continue to be glossed over in the textbooks studied by Japanese schoolchildren, and Japanese government officials continue to visit the Yasukuni Shrine, a symbol of Japanese military rule. But despite the official chilliness, on a personal level there are other stories that indicate that time has healed some of the wounds. An interpreter I met in Seoul told me that when she studied English in the United States, she roomed with a Japanese girl. They became good friends, and at one point, the Japanese girl broke down and apologized tearfully for all the things her country had done to Korea and its people. The interpreter told me "I could not accept such an apology--it is not mine to accept on behalf of all those who suffered", but that she was moved by the girl's feeling of remorse and her need to express it. They remain good friends and see each other from time to time. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">Today many young people study Japanese freely and Japanese tourists in Korea (particularly housewives on shopping trips, since the exchange rate is very favorable) abound. At the airport, English, Korean and Japanese are prominent--it's Chinese that's missing. I interviewed one young man for a job who spoke extremely well. Despite studying for only a year, he was able to pass the Level 1 Proficiency exam offered by the Japanese government (I've passed Level 2, but not yet tackled Level 1). I was a little amused at how he did it, though--he confessed that he had fallen in love with the Japanese instructor, who was quite pretty, and was determined to pass the exam in order to impress her enough to go on a date with him. Sheepishly, he admitted that although he passed the exam, she ultimately rebuffed his advances. <br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"> </span></div></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-16959311533886744522009-10-31T18:33:00.000-07:002009-11-13T16:47:43.087-08:00Vignettes<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">As in Chennai, I have about an hour drive into work in the morning from Shanghai, and usually an hour and 15 or 20 minutes back in the evening. Though I didn't have my camera with me, here is a word picture of the things that caught my attention recently:</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">Two cars stopped dead in the right hand lane on the service drive (no flashing lights on) with the drivers doing their business in nearby bushes. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">An old woman of indeterminate age gathering used water bottles for sale--she must have had over 100--at a toll booth; she was collecting them in a hollowed out area of a cement barrier that divided one booth from another</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">Two men in a fishing boat, with nets, in a small pond next to the toll road</span></li></ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">I was scheduled for a couple of field trips---one to Beijing and the other, this weekend, to Louyang, where there are some temples and the original home of Buddhism in China. Unfortunately, both of them got cancelled. Now I only have another couple of weeks here before returning to the U.S. until the beginning of next year, so will have to put off much more sightseeing until next year. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">Lately, though, I've been missing India a lot. Perhaps it's because this past week I've met some old colleagues, heard from a couple of others, and had some issues to deal with there for work. Coincidentally, Outsourced (the movie) was on cable TV one night as well, bringing back all the images and sounds and people. So far, work has not taken me back there, but I hope it does in 2010. </span></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-87851604509816391472009-10-24T04:29:00.001-07:002009-10-24T05:45:42.534-07:00Shanghai Museum Again<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SuL0Na_gGiI/AAAAAAAAAr8/iQlrZvPguFM/s1600-h/P1040079.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SuL0Na_gGiI/AAAAAAAAAr8/iQlrZvPguFM/s400/P1040079.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396143814964419106" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SuLlU2z7oII/AAAAAAAAAr0/xvELDYM9isc/s1600-h/P1040113.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SuLlU2z7oII/AAAAAAAAAr0/xvELDYM9isc/s400/P1040113.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396127450016751746" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I went back to the Shanghai Museum today. I'd only seen one<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SuL0jr9f7YI/AAAAAAAAAsE/OEia25RS5j0/s400/P1040104.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396144197476543874" /> floor--the one with ceramics--and wanted to check the rest of the museum out. You could easily spend a day here. As the picture at the left shows, each piece is exquisite, and full of detail. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;">There's a long line to get in, especially on the weekends. But well worth the wait. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, serif;"><br /></span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-8041651359698956842009-10-14T15:27:00.000-07:002009-10-14T07:49:21.947-07:00Back in Shanghai<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Back in Shanghai, I'm done traveling for a while, other than back and forth to Korea. I'm thinking about going to Xi'an before leaving for the States again at the end of November, and have scheduled myself for a weekend retreat at a Buddhist monastery outside of Beijing in a couple of weeks. Other than that, this week's amusement is drivers.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">Since I moved into Shanghai, I've had a car and driver service. Since I was gone for a couple of weeks, the driver I had--who I really liked--is now with someone else in the office. The guy who picked me up at the airport and drove me on the weekend was fine, too. As of yesterday I had a new driver who was supposed to be with me until the end of November. But after one day I decided this guy was just too creepy---plus his driving made me nervous---so now I have another one. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">Why was he creepy? Well, for one thing he kept scratching himself--on his head, his arms, his stomach-- he even rolled up a pant leg to scratch his legs. Constantly, and while driving, which is the thing that made me nervous. I am not sure if he had a skin disorder, lice or what, but it was creepy and distracting. This morning he didn't do it as much, but it was one of those things where I kept watching him to see if he would start up again. Besides that, he zoned out and almost missed the exit a couple of times, and had to cross over four lanes to swerve onto the ramp, and he kept wandering over to the shoulder and driving there. So I asked for him to be replaced. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">The new guy seems to be a bit better, but he too wound up annoying me. On the way home, he kept in the passing lane, but he doesn't drive that fast so everyone went around him. In my admittedly limited Chinese, I finally pointed out that he was going too slow to be in that lane. So what does he do? He speeds up, but switches lanes so he is now passing people who are in the passing lane. Back in Shanghai. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-3031597526915056082009-10-03T07:27:00.001-07:002009-10-05T08:48:32.812-07:00Around the World in 8 days<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">After a hectic schedule in which I logged about 30,000 miles in 8 days, am relaxing at our place in New Hampshire for a week. It's raining here and fall has definitely set in, with cooler temperatures and the beautiful landscape that this time of year brings. Friday night we went to a Sukkah party with people from the synagogue we attend here. TIme to reflect and enjoy the fall harvest.</span> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">I spent a few days in Korea before coming to New York and then up to New Hampshire. I realize that I have written nothing of Korea, even though I've spent a fair amount of time there. In part this is because I've not done much besides work there, and have had no time to explore the countryside or even Seoul. I enjoy the food--more than Chinese, actually, since it's very fresh and features a lot of vegetables and interesting spices, and is very healthy. I've picked up a little of the language--at times I do a doubletake because the inflections and body language of Koreans are so similar to Japanese that I think I should be understanding. I find that the little I've learned "sticks" better than Chinese--not necessarily because the sounds are similar to Japanese, but the grammar is almost the same and I must be using the same part of my brain that stores Japanese. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">But Koreans are not like Japanese or Chinese--it is a unique culture. There are similarities all across Asia, of course, ranging from obvious things like squat toilets and rice-based cuisine to a group based cultures that value face saving and hierarchy over individualism. But beyond this there are significant differences. I haven't really figured out the thought process, as I was eventually able to do in Japan. In fact, the other day I had an email exchange with someone in our Japan operation, and found myself immediately able to read between the lines in a way that turned out to be completely accurate---it kind of surprised me that my instincts were still that sharp despite being away from the country for years. But Korea is a different story. Mostly I have to keep peeling back the onion in various interactions to try to get at what is really going on. I'll be spending more time there over the next few months, so let's see what progress I make. </span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-42053007016998875932009-09-25T19:12:00.000-07:002009-09-25T19:45:50.461-07:00Thinking about blogging<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sr17-mHlZzI/AAAAAAAAAq8/gzkc8qRniss/s1600-h/IMAGE_027.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sr17-mHlZzI/AAAAAAAAAq8/gzkc8qRniss/s400/IMAGE_027.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385597044719445810" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">For whatever reason, I haven't had the dedication to keeping up this blog the way I did the one in India, where I posted every week. I was thinking over the past week that I should change this--it's really only a matter of discipline and observation, and there are certainly enough things to comment on here. I haven't written at all about Korea, for example. In part it may be because I spend a lot of time at work and I don't like to blog much about work for confidentiality reasons. However, as I have been out here for about six months I'm also feeling the need to take stock. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">The last week I spent in Germany, near Heidelberg where the company I'm working with has its European headquarters. I really enjoyed this a lot, especially meeting colleagues from France, Poland, Italy and the UK in addition to Germany. The shot above--taken with my phone since I left my camera behind--- is Heidelberg Castle, during a more than 2 hour evening tour, which was quite interesting (though long). Heidelberg, partly for its cultural heritage, was spared bombing during World War II, and is really a beautiful city. One of my colleagues is French and we spent a long time talking about how the history of the war, especially the Vichy collaboration with the Nazis, still plays out in labor management relations today. All in all, a very rich week of learning and discussion. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">Back in Shanghai now literally for a pit stop, then to Korea tomorrow for the balance of a short week, as beginning October 1 it is a major holiday festival in both China and Korea --Mid Autumn Festival in China and Chusuk (Bountiful Abundance) in Korea. I'll travel back to the US again to avoid racking up tax days in China so will miss this celebration. </span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-28402676556597247582009-09-08T05:30:00.000-07:002009-09-08T05:44:28.984-07:00Back in China<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I returned to China about three weeks ago and got the cast off this past weekend. My wrist is pretty stiff and doesn't have a lot of range of motion yet, but I'm seeing some progress since the weekend. The doctor did not even want to give me anything to wrap it with, but agreed to put on an Ace bandage, which I wear during the day. (It is a good thing I got him to do it, because I haven't seen wrist supports anywhere in Shanghai, even though I'm guessing most of them are made here). On Saturday I am supposed to have a physical therapy session, though I've mostly figured out what to do on my own. No lifting or strenuous activity with the wrist for at least two weeks, though I should be able to swim pretty soon when the stiffness goes down a bit more. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">In the meantime, I moved to a service apartment in the Hongqiao area, which is where a lot of expats live. This place is convenient to the work locations I need to go to as well as to the domestic airport, which is only about 10 minutes away. It's been nice to have a kitchen and take advantage of some of the produce that China has to offer--last night I had several kinds of mushrooms sauteed in garlic, olive oil and wine, and tonight stir-fried some greens. There is a special washing solution you can get to rinse everything, but it all tasted quite good and very fresh.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"> </span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-73411286310732193982009-08-16T17:53:00.000-07:002009-08-16T17:53:00.124-07:00Hillary, the Pope, and me<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I haven't blogged since before I broke my wrist in Shanghai on July 25. I was walking in a semi-construction area (which actually describes half the city--there are cranes everywhere), and tripped and fell, putting my left hand out to brace the fall (the medical term for this is FOOSH--fall on outstretched hand). In doing so, I joined thousands of people of boomers (Hillary) and elderly (the Pope) who have broken a wrist or elbow in a similar fall. It was an unstable break, and, nearly three weeks later, I still don't know if I will need surgery. I have learned how to do a lot with only one hand---it's amazing the things you can do with a knee, elbow, or chin. I can type nearly as fast now with one hand as with two. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">Meantime, I came back to Detroit to get it looked after, in case it displaced again and required surgery (plates and screws). The doctor in Shanghai did a pretty good job of setting it, but people were amazed to see an old-fashioned plaster cast. Last week the doctor here changed the cast to fiberglass, and it felt like a real load had been taken off---plaster is HEAVY. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;">I spent some time at the office here, and got to meet some of the people I had mainly known through email and phone conversations. Enjoyed seeing all the cars cruising around in anticipation of the <a href="http://www.woodwarddreamcruise.com/"><b>dream cruise</b></a>, which was this weekend. Tomorrow I see the doctor again, and hoping I will be cleared to travel back to China. </span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-50975934269722440532009-07-21T04:45:00.000-07:002009-07-21T04:54:36.218-07:00Coda to the Story--Quality Fade<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So quality fade is not only about products, but services, too. Gradually, over the last six weeks, the breakfast buffet at my hotel has undergone a slow but serious degradation: cheese reduced from a nice assortment including brie, Swiss, etc. to only plastic wrapped Cheez-whiz; no more wheat and multi-grain, only white bread, four kinds of cereal reduced to three, no butter unless you ask---then comes after toast finished, etc. Then, suddenly---it all goes back to the way it was....and throw in some lox to boot---suggesting that the quality inspectors from corporate have swooped in. I won't be here all that much longer to see the slide again, but it's probably inevitable....</span>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-11025219963426516522009-07-19T05:44:00.000-07:002009-07-19T06:23:49.883-07:00Poorly Made in China<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I've been reading a very interesting book: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Poorly-Made-China-Insiders-Production/dp/0470405589"> Poorly Made in China</a>, by Paul Midler. It reads almost like a novel, but sadly, it isn't. It's about the difficult relationship between importers--mostly Americans--and manufacturers in China, with all the ways that the Chinese manufacturers manipulate and control the relationship, not to mention the quality of products. Midler talks about "quality fade", a deliberate and incremental degradation of quality and manufacturing standards in order for the Chinese side to cut costs and increase their profits, as well as counterfeiting--making extra production runs to sell proprietary products in a gray market. The Mattel and milk scandals are only two more well known examples---Midler's cases and his research imply that the practices are widespread. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Midler is a fluent Chinese speaker with a Wharton MBA who has acted as a consultant to various importers, ranging from a personal care products importer to a diamond merchant. Like his clients, he often finds himself victim of the manufacturers' practices---at one point, insisting on a refilling of bottles of body wash that had been shorted the requisite 850 millileters, he found himself having to walk back to his hotel because the factory owner, "Sister", was angry with him for insisting on the re-do and wouldn't provide a ride. The importer, known only as "Bernie", constantly finds himself at a disadvantage as "Sister", who speaks very little English except "price go up!" manipulates both his temper and the business. "Sister" is also constantly engaging in "quality fade", with both the packaging and the formulas. At one point, some shampoo turns to jelly and she wants to ship it anyway, and in another, she gradually reduces the thickness of plastic containers to the point that they start to have leakage problems in shipping. Near the end, Bernie comes up with his own "gotcha" moment, but you have the sense that ultimately, Sister--despite little business training and no English--is going to cut him out of the middle one day and go direct to his customers. In fact, one of the main messages of this book is the way in which the importers are totally beholden to the manufacturers. Even when Bernie tries to go around Sister and find another supplier, she finds out about it almost immediately since the suppliers in this business all know each other and do not let foreigners play divide and conquer. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Midler himself, despite being a long time resident and Mandarin speaker, does not ever really seem to help his clients beat the Chinese manufacturers at their own games--he is taken advantage of almost as often as his clients. Even Bernie's "gotcha" moment is something that Bernie himself seems to have thought up. Or perhaps Midler is too clever to take the credit, since he wants to continue to be a bridge with Chinese companies? Hard to say. LIke him, though, I find myself thinking twice everytime I pick up a consumable product made here. You just don't know if "Sister" might be the factory owner....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-53227560639544165972009-06-27T21:31:00.000-07:002009-06-28T03:53:54.214-07:00Persistence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I have been in China about two and a half months and starting to dig a little deeper into how things work---or don't. In terms of human resources, there are a number of similarities to India, but I have drawn the tentative conclusion that these are more due to the dynamic nature of these markets and the immaturity of the respective workforces, than to purely cultural similarities. Yesterday I had lunch with another HR person whose company has significant operations in Beijing, and she told me it is not uncommon for young people in the capital to suddenly quit a job even with no alternative lined up--similar to what you find in the BPO industry in India. Usually these employees live with Mom and Dad and work is more like a pastime than a necessity, so their attitude toward it is casual. Not to mention that they can easily go out and get another position--maybe one where the cafeteria food is better. If China and India are similar in this respect, it's probably more due to a shared problem of over-indulgent parenting. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;">One thing I have noticed that has a definite cultural backdrop is a striking lack of persistence. In China, people try things once (and sometimes not at all), and if it doesn't work the first time, they tend to give up rather than try again or use a different approach. For example, they will look for what is wrong in a piece of machinery (or a toilet), but rather than try to understand the root cause, they simply patch it over or respond "huai le" (it's broken). If logistics don't appear to be working out or someone says "no" , they take this as the end of the story, and it's "mei banfa" (there's no way, it can't be helped). Needless to say, this drives a lot of Westerners bonkers. We're all about "ownership" of problems even if we didn't create them, and "drive for results." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;">I have not been here long enough to get below the surface to understand the mentality that produces this behavior, but I suspect it is combination of education (emphasis on rote learning rather than problem solving) and differing assumptions about the value and/or risk of associating oneself with a problem or a solution. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, -webkit-fantasy; ">Problem solving, when it does happen, can be eclectic, and not necessarily logical. This morning I was fascinated to watch an employee in the dining room of my hotel spend several minutes trying to adjust the milk dispenser so that it would let out the last cup of milk, rather than simply go back to the kitchen and get more. Which, of course, he had to do less than five minutes later when someone came along and drained the dispenser which did not contain even a full glass...... .</span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><br /></span></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-89473343848868049762009-06-22T04:03:00.000-07:002013-12-19T18:52:30.127-08:00"We take what's dished out"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">"We take what's dished out." This is a phrase my dad started saying fairly late in life. He used it to describe what was happening to him, to my mother and to their health, and the slow but inexorable closing in of life as they both became less able to control the events swirling around them: his first surgery for an aortic aneurysm in his 80s, my mother's decline and admission to a nursing home, his own bodily and mental malfunctions. He didn't mean it to sound passive. Rather, he meant that we must find ways to cope with the things life throws at us. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Three things juxtaposed themselves oddly this weekend in a way that brought this phrase back to me. Father's Day, of course---my first without Dad, and Marty far away in America. A note back from an old friend, who I'd written to congratulate on his 75th birthday, sharing the news that his wife was undergoing the final in a series of chemo treatments for a particularly difficult form of cancer--- "and now we see." And finally, the discovery that a small jewelry box, containing some necklaces and a ring that I had given my mother for gifts including her own 75th birthday, has evidently been stolen sometime in the last couple of weeks. It might have happened in any of a number of places--from the airport or airlines to one of the hotels I've stayed in here or in Korea. Impossible to say. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Of course my first reaction was a sense of violation, anger at myself for being careless perhaps---and dismay. Some of the pieces were valuable, but more in the sentimental sense than what it would cost to replace them. The ring, in particular, I wore often and it gave me a sense of closeness to my mother. Then I thought of my friend, struggling with the life threatening illness of his spouse, and it put things in more perspective. After all, it was a ring, not a life. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In Vipassana, you hear over and over again---and try to absorb--that all things are impermanent. Over a few hours, I began to tell myself a story of the ring and the other jewelry--whether true or not, it really doesn't matter. These things had a value to me that was mostly sentimental, fending off the sense of impermanence that ultimately dooms us all. I don't know anything about the person or persons who took the box, or their motives. I can only hope they really needed the money that these pieces brought them. I hope that the jewelry paid a doctor for the care of an elderly parent, or tuition for a student, or rent for a down and out relative. In any event, I must face that they have now passed from my possession as surely as they did from my mother's when she died. It helps to think they are doing some worldly good. But even if not--there is the odd comfort of hearing my father's voice: "we take what's dished out." </span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-20772600727713474822009-06-09T05:22:00.000-07:002009-06-09T05:37:48.429-07:00Shanghai Museum<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5W3aJKhHI/AAAAAAAAAqw/ETOTfdY_H5Y/s1600-h/P1040008.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5W3aJKhHI/AAAAAAAAAqw/ETOTfdY_H5Y/s400/P1040008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345305317645911154" /></a><br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5V3yQg6TI/AAAAAAAAAqo/bFwUzCR2lbQ/s400/P1040003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345304224607562034" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5ViIDSfQI/AAAAAAAAAqg/G18VkYOwBtQ/s1600-h/P1030960.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5ViIDSfQI/AAAAAAAAAqg/G18VkYOwBtQ/s400/P1030960.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345303852500548866" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5VMhtWAjI/AAAAAAAAAqY/ZvXj81_UP9s/s1600-h/P1030955.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5VMhtWAjI/AAAAAAAAAqY/ZvXj81_UP9s/s400/P1030955.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345303481430704690" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Marty was here for about ten days. We didn't go far from Shanghai, but did take in Hangzhou and Suzhou, and while I was working during the day he did some Shanghai tours. Thanks to him, I now know some new places in this highly charged city. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">One of Marty's tours included a short stop at the Shanghai Museum. There was no way he could do the place justice in 45 minutes, so last weekend we went back. The ceramics exhibit was astounding. I've seen Chinese ceramics before, but not this number and variety. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5ViIDSfQI/AAAAAAAAAqg/G18VkYOwBtQ/s1600-h/P1030960.JPG"></a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Si5ViIDSfQI/AAAAAAAAAqg/G18VkYOwBtQ/s1600-h/P1030960.JPG"></a></span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-68873879211972949122009-05-23T23:58:00.000-07:002009-05-24T00:26:57.393-07:00The Treo Unlocked--Caveat Emptor<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">I don't usually write product reviews, but in the case of the Palm Treo Pro Cell phone (unlocked) I have to make an exception. This is a phone that was given to me in the States so that I could put a China (and India) SIM card in it and use the phone in Korea. It is also loaded with Windows apps, which I've yet to use other than to download an occasional attachment (and if the attachment has a password, you're out of luck). As I've twittered off and on, this is the lousiest cell phone I've ever had ---and I've had Nokia, Motorola, Blackberry, and probably a few others. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The worst thing about this phone is that it has a mind of its own. It does what it wants to do (sometimes on a whim) rather than what I want it to do. Let me count the ways:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The back of the case is very hard to get off. Once you figure it out, it's okay, but even now I occasionally have trouble getting it off to get the battery out. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The phone does not ring when you get an incoming international call. Have tried every setting possible on the sound selection, and all it does is make a notification sound. The only time it works is when I also set email to "ring" like a phone call. While there is probably a way around this, it sure shouldn't be this difficult. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The battery wears down very quickly. I have done all the energy saving things I can think of (such as turn off Wi Fi and Bluetooth), and it still doesn't hold a candle to the Nokia I had, which sometimes carried a charge for up to four days (and I was using it a lot), or even the Blackberry. Palm seems to recognize this shortcoming because they give you a second battery. But then the cover is hard to get off, so a pain. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The backlight function goes down to almost black. I made the mistake of turning it all the way down one time, and could only barely figure out how to get it back to a more reasonable setting. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">It does not have a function to tell you missed or received calls that you can pull up separately. ( I know this is a phone function and not a SIM function because when I put the SIM card in my Nokia, it had these features. )</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">It is too easy to accidentally hit a number/contact and have the number dial on you---and impossible to stop in progress. Once I called Marty at 1:00 a.m. when this happened.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The phone is hard to turn off. You have to hit the button "just right" or it doesn't work. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">You have to lock the phone in order to ensure that it doesn't dial numbers, send SMS, or do other mischievous things on its own. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The keyboard is not as user friendly as either Nokia (the best) or Blackberry. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">When you enter a new contact's phone info, you have to use two thumbs to enter the number because the entry line does not default to numerical values, but to letters. This is a real pain when you are trying to enter a number on the go. </span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The clock sometimes (not always) changes to the time of your last meeting. Two or three times the clock has become "stuck" and I've had to reset it.</span></li></ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Almost every week, I discover something new that I don't like about this phone. Glad it isn't one I purchased myself. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-58245633447359777012009-05-12T06:58:00.000-07:002009-05-13T06:18:37.173-07:00A Walk in the Park<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SgmGJdqfUwI/AAAAAAAAAqI/XgUXoESNJf8/s400/IMG_0296.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334942730736849666" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> When traveling I like to be up early in the morning and see what's what. You can learn a lot about a culture by what people do at the start of the day. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Across from my hotel there is a nice park. It's quite large, with a couple of good sized ponds and little bridges, and takes around twenty minutes to walk around. I'm usually up by 6 or 6:30, and sometimes on a nice day I'll go over and take a walk there. You'll see people doing Tai Chi like the woman between the trees in the picture above, people walking their little dogs (don't see too many big ones here), or older people, married couples or friends of the same sex, out for a morning stroll. Sometimes I'll see a lone young person, sitting on a rock or at a bridge, contemplating the day before work. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">All of these were expected, especially the Tai Chi. What I did not expect was the morning bird outing. In the picture, you can see bird cages hanging from trees. This is just a sample. At least thirty or forty people show up, some in utility vehicles with several cages, others by themselves, and bring their pet chickadees for the birds to enjoy the outdoors, at least from the safety of their cages. There is one area of the park where these people gather, and it is alive with the sound of birds chirping as the owners gather to catch up on the news, have a smoke, or stretch. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Birds are more low maintenance pets, and also take up less room than dogs. But cats are more common here than I would have thought--also low maintenance. Just not in the same household with birds, I'd guess.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SgmCw3EdolI/AAAAAAAAAqA/ATS_ZMT7km8/s400/IMG_0304.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334939009525064274" />nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-73182975337910712692009-05-06T04:26:00.000-07:002009-05-06T06:03:47.085-07:00Goldilocks and the Three Spoons<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One of the things I have found in this part of the world is that the presentation and delivery of Western food can have some interesting twists. Years ago, I went into a restaurant in Tokyo and ordered French toast for breakfast, and it came with no honey, syrup, or even butter---but there was a nicely cut up tomato as garnish. In India I once had spaghetti with marinara sauce, and it was laced with pickle relish. In the past few days I have had an equally fascinating experience here in China with cereal. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The hotel I am at offers a breakfast buffet that is part of the room tab. It is really quite a lavish spread with a Chinese breakfast, Japanese foods such as sushi and sashimi, and more traditional Western fare such as eggs, meats, cheeses, fruit, bread and rolls, etc. There is also a small area with about half a dozen varieties of cereal. Yesterday I decided to have All Bran and I put some in one of the bowls that I found on a shelf under the cereal with a large serving spoon that was near the cereal area. For some reason the table settings here include forks and knives but no spoons, only a very tiny spoon that is served with coffee to stir in milk or sugar, so I looked near the cereal area for one to eat with. Nothing. I looked by the fruit, some of which is the type that is canned with syrup. No spoons. Finally, I asked a waitress and she disappeared and came back with a Chinese soup spoon (the kind with the big lip around the edge for eating soup, but definitely not appropriate for spearing All Bran, or canned fruit, for that matter). I held the spoon and pointed to the bowl---how was I going to eat cereal with this spoon? She looked flustered. I finally picked up the tiny coffee spoon and started eating the cereal with it---at the rate I was going, this was going to take a while. The waitress went off and got another waitress, who asked me what I needed. A regular spoon, please? So off went the second waitress. When she came back, she had a large serving spoon--no lip, which was good, but three good spoonfuls of cereal and I was able to finish the bowl. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This morning I seriously considered bringing my own spoon--I had one in the room that I had bought when I first came here. I forgot it. Resigned to eating my bowl of cereal with the small coffee spoon, I was surprised when the waitress came over to my table, again bearing the large serving one. But then when I went back to get a little more cereal, I couldn't find anything to dish it up with..... Maybe it's time to switch to an omelette? </span></span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-1832832943804215832009-05-03T04:49:00.001-07:002009-05-03T06:03:57.010-07:00Suzhou<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sf2TeTCenHI/AAAAAAAAApw/8Rppdn3724c/s1600-h/IMG_0071.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sf2TeTCenHI/AAAAAAAAApw/8Rppdn3724c/s400/IMG_0071.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331579682592562290" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sf2RA51kgqI/AAAAAAAAApo/b-BSgP7rdKY/s1600-h/IMG_0231.JPG"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sf2OaYKBtYI/AAAAAAAAApg/DRF8Rg-35GY/s1600-h/IMG_0180.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sf2OaYKBtYI/AAAAAAAAApg/DRF8Rg-35GY/s400/IMG_0180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331574117688784258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This was a holiday weekend in China, so I spent a couple of days in Suzhou, which is about 15 minutes from Kunshan by high speed train. The city is called in tourist brochures the “Venice of China.” I haven’t been to Venice, so can’t comment on the accuracy of this comparison, but it is an interesting city with lots to do, so I’ll definitely go back. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Although I usually like to explore on my own, this time I hired a guide and was glad I did. “Mr. Yu” was a local of indeterminate age (probably in his late 60s or early 70s) who had been an English teacher, and I gather that he has been a tour guide for many years, rising up to the highest, yellow level in the tour guide hierarchy. He ferried me around to a number of spots, very informative, that I likely would have found only with great difficulty on my own---and as it turned out, even more so because of transportation problems</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> The person who made my reservation with Mr. Yu asked me, by the way, did I want a car as well? Expecting that I would be spending the whole day with someone who had a car, and thinking that if I needed to go anywhere else, I could simply take a taxi, I said, no--I would take a taxi from the train station. The response: ok. Well, it turned out that because there are few taxis in Suzhou to begin with and it was also a holiday weekend, this was not a wise move. At the train station, I waited in a long line for more than a half hour for one---not a lot different from New York at one of the airports at times, so initially I was not that concerned. However, the next morning Mr Yu arrived; we left the hotel and he immediately tried to hail a cab, with some difficulty. I now realized the reason for the question about hiring a car. Unlike tour guides in other places I’ve been, he didn’t himself drive. Mr. Yu later told me that he had told the person who had booked his services for me that due to the holiday we definitely should have a hired car, but--likely because she did not speak English well, and my Chinese has not advanced to this level of understanding-- she did not pass this information on to me. Somehow, we did manage to flag cabs during the day, sometimes waiting up to ten minutes, until the very end of the day, when there simply were none to be found in the area of town we were in. We wound up returning to the hotel by pedi-cab (as autorickshaws are called here.) No big deal for me, having lived three years in India, but Mr. Yu was obviously quite chagrined. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Nonetheless, it was a worthwhile day. We toured two of Suzhou's over 70 gardens, both of which are UNESCO World Heritage sites. The first was the largest in the city, called the "Humble Administrator's Garden" , which was actually built up by a rather cheeky cultural minister during the Ming dynasty (14-17th centuries), who became "humble" only after a fall from grace. The garden was packed and there were probably over a hundred tour buses there with masses of people from various parts of China as well as foreign countries. The second garden, the Master of Nets (the nets refer to fishing nets) I liked much better. It was a lot quieter and more like a private estate. Plus, there was an art gallery on site with very reasonably priced silk paintings, woodblock prints, and water colors.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It started to rain in the afternoon, so we rented a boat and toured down the canals that traverse the city---down a main one called "the Grand Canal" and then off into some neighborhood canals, where people's back windows face the canal and their front door the street. Some of the stone bridges --some foot bridges and others that allow larger traffic--are hundreds of years old. Along the steps is a small groove that allows people to move bicycles up and down the bridges. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At one point we stopped and got off the boat to tour a small market area. China is famous for the unusual things that people eat, and you could see them in all their variety here---in addition to vegetables and fruits, there were live snakes, eels, pigeons, frogs (pretty good sized ones), turtles and the usual chickens and ducks, as well as pig's feet, intestines, etc. No monkeys though. Probably too low in this part of the country. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p></a>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-53741638176307848052009-04-26T04:07:00.001-07:002009-04-26T06:05:05.986-07:00Shanghai Auto Show<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SfRENZqd3_I/AAAAAAAAApA/LDCPcHVwSxE/s1600-h/IMG_0005.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SfRENZqd3_I/AAAAAAAAApA/LDCPcHVwSxE/s400/IMG_0005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328959256104132594" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Yesterday, I and what seemed to be at least two million of my new Chinese 朋友 (friends) visited the Shanghai auto show.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">As I did last week, I took the high speed train from Kunshan into Shanghai, and then got the subway from Shanghai Station to Longyang, where the expo facilities are. I went in the morning, thinking it would be less crowded, and it was --but only by degrees. By the time I got to People's Square to change subway lines, the crowd getting on the line that went to Longyang was already a herd. And when I left, the crowd coming to the expo hall was at least half again as large as it had been when I arrived. </span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Arriving in Longyang, I basically followed the crowd, which proceeded about a quarter mile to the Expo Center. The Expo Center is huge, with two large phalanxes of exhibit halls and some tented ones in the center that were occupied by hundreds of Chinese auto suppliers. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">My first stop was the VW and GM exhibits, which were in the same hall. I later visited the Ford and Volvo areas as well. They were all massively crowded, with people standing in front of the various models and having their pictures taken, getting in and out of the cars, and inspecting the paint jobs. You had to fight to get through from one exhibit to the other. Although it's hard to compare, the crowd at the GM exhibit seemed the largest, certainly more than at the Japanese ones --I even found some open space at the Toyota area. There were a myriad of Chinese producers, as well---and their area likewise did not seem as crowded to me. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">If GM is able to convert even a fraction of their audience here into buyers, it may be the key to their survival. Still, I suspect that many of the people who visited this show are not in the market for a car, at least not today. When China was first opened to western trading, it used to be said in the textile industry that "if only the Chinese would wear their undershirts an inch longer" western textile mills would not run out of business for a century---yet that dream never materialized and China never became the source of much wealth. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SfRVbL0lRuI/AAAAAAAAApQ/W67vxwlkzcI/s400/IMG_0059.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328978184604305122" /> The story is different today, of course---Chinese auto sales are exceeding those in the U.S., at least at the moment. When I first came to China more than 25 years ago, there were far more bicycles than cars, and that's likely still true today judging from the number I still see---but there are also millions of cars on the road that were only a dream then (to buy a bicycle in 1984 could have been a year's wages or more for the average person). Well before the young fellow below, pictured in front of the Buick exhibit, is ready to drive, it's likely that China will indeed be the #1 market in the world by a long shot. </span></div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SfRS5HKd2II/AAAAAAAAApI/G4N8G7QAbdY/s400/IMG_0029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328975400215107714" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-37478726528987936852009-04-20T04:47:00.000-07:002009-04-20T06:05:34.191-07:00No Paint, No Gain.....transition to Shanghai<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sexl-f6QXtI/AAAAAAAAAok/0YSZOTnKA-s/s1600-h/IMG_0555.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sexl-f6QXtI/AAAAAAAAAok/0YSZOTnKA-s/s400/IMG_0555.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326744583664590546" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Well, things may have loosened up a bit here on the Internet front and with Witopia to mask my IP address for the occasional blockout, I didn't have to get rid of Blogger. So in order not to confuse things too much, I have decided to keep this blog going. After all, life is full of transitions, right? And this is not likely to be my last, so the title should still hold....</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I arrived in Shanghai on the 11th, and started work on the 13th. I'm situated outside of the city, in a place called Kunshan. It is the home of a famous type of Chinese opera, and the birthplace of Madame Sun Yat-sen. There are some natural sites around, including some lakes, and it is on the way to Nanjing (better known in the west by its old name, Nanking), and the often visited cities of Suzhou and Hangzhou, both of which I plan to travel to soon.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I spent the weekend in Shanghai proper. From Kunshan, there is a fast train that takes only 18 minutes to Shanghai station, traveling at speeds up to 150 miles per hour. I was very impressed by the train stations. Everything is well organized and orderly, if massively crowded. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The trains are well marked, there are dedicated waiting rooms for blocks of trains, and everyone queues up, no pushing or shoving. The subways in Shanghai are packed, especially on the weekends, but equally intuitive to get around. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/Sexrxqd9yTI/AAAAAAAAAos/Idl8-N2hSws/s400/IMG_0615.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326750960230189362" /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I was able to find a place to stay near the section of Shanghai called The Bund, which is a beautiful and at night, quite a magical place, the old buildings dating from concession days lit up and the boats that traverse the Yangtze River, which divides the older city from Pudong, brightly decorated with colored lights. There is a smallish classical Chinese garden called Yu Yuan nearby as well, which you can only get through by passing through a shopping mall, replete with a couple of Starbucks just so tourists don't feel too far from home. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">English here can be amusing, more similar to Japan than India. I passed a girl on the way to Yu Yuan wearing a tee shirt that said, "No Paint, No Gain." The hotel swimming pool in a place I looked at today that I may move to had a sign warning that the pool was off limits to "people who don't swim" and "smashed people." (It took a few seconds for the second one to sink in.....) The Bund is busy with construction--looks like a new highway going through between the old buildings and the promenade. But just to be sure people know things are still open during construction, there is a sign to that effect.....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/SexvbMwtFCI/AAAAAAAAAo0/Ku5UGpyRh6I/s400/IMG_0532.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326754972345111586" /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-9879679843287481122009-04-04T07:54:00.001-07:002009-04-04T08:58:58.470-07:00Last Post --I've been Shanghaied<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">This will be the last post for Transitions. On Friday, I leave for Shanghai where I will be visiting for a few months on an extended business trip. From what I understand, Blogger (the application I have been using for this blog and the previous one, Chennai Journal) is blocked in China, so I am in the process of seeking out alternative arrangements for a new blog, yet to be named. Unfortunately, my first choice, Chabuduo, a quintessential Chinese word I learned years ago, was already taken. Chabuduo, as explained to me, means "almost" or "nearly", but often in a kind of puckish way---as in "the car almost runs." The characters (which I haven't figured out how to import to Blogger) are identical to the Japanese meaning, although this is not a word that I've seen in that language. Well, maybe using this as a name isn't such a good omen, after all, and a better one awaits--though Shanghai Journal was also not available. </span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">My first trip to China was almost exactly 25 years ago, in 1984. I made two that year--one just about this time of year, to Beijing and Chengdu, deep in the Chinese interior in Sichuan Province (home of the famous panda bears), and the second a couple of months later. Neither airport was yet modernized, and in Beijing we stayed in a hotel that was under construction--in fact, as I recall, pretty much everything was under construction. I don't remember much about Beijing itself, other than going to Tiananmen Square (this was five years before the massacre) and then later to the Great Wall, but on the first trip we took a flight to Chengdu on an old Russian plane. It was packed, and none of the overhead compartment doors closed, mainly because they were overstuffed and/or broken from previous overstuffing. All kinds of baggage, clothing, and produce was hanging out of them, and went flying as the plane took off. The plane had not a single empty seat, so the stewardesses had to stand the whole time, including during takeoff. It was nervewracking but we got there, and back. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I have been back a few times since, most recently a few years ago when I visited Beijing, Shanghai and Chongqing. The change was amazing, at least in the infrastructure, and from what I understand every month brings more. Yet, despite the surface change, many things about China hadn't seemed to alter---which isn't at all surprising given what a blip in time 20 years is in the course of Chinese history. It will be interesting to be on the ground for a little while and dig into things more, as well as to contrast China to my recent time in India. Marty is also looking forward to visiting--fortunately, he likes Chinese food a lot better than he did south Indian. </span></div><div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-45842453270899681892009-03-25T17:32:00.000-07:002009-03-25T18:20:10.078-07:00Burial<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">We buried my dad today. The cemetery had been closed for the winter, and has recently reopened. As a kid, I never remember it closing--my grandmother died in February, and I recall other bitterly cold burials as well. This closing in the winter must be a recent thing. If you are on the receiving end of this (meaning you are a mourner) it is decidedly strange to have the funeral and the burial so far apart. Dad has been gone for more than two months now, and emotionally, the last thing I wanted at this point was another funeral. So we kept it private. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The main thing for me was the satisfaction of knowing that Dad finally returned to East Tawas. (This is a technicality, but the funeral home where the casket was stored until the burial is in the neighboring city of Tawas City, and the cemetery is in East Tawas, where Dad, and later I, was raised.) He definitely would have liked that part. In India he barely knew where he was, though sometimes in more lucid moments he would say that longed to go back. But he never said to "Tawas" which is always where I say I am from, which is the two towns combined. It was always "East Tawas." During his active years, I recall Dad supporting--or at least, not opposing-- the idea of a merger between the two cities, but in the end, his allegiance was still to the one that he had been raised in. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Other than returning him to his "native place", as it would be called in India, I wish I could say that the burial gave me any additional closure--but it really didn't. At times, it is still hard to believe that Dad is gone. Other times, it seems like a long time since he has died. Despite his now final resting place in the hometown he loved, buried between my mother and his mother, I can't help feel that Dad is out exploring some distant galaxy, or perhaps in a salon with Emily Dickinson. His feet were firmly planted in Northern Michigan, but his interest and imagination knew no boundaries.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"> </span></div></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5387561132977880609.post-7409349119407409242009-03-23T10:19:00.000-07:002009-03-23T10:47:00.715-07:00Trip to India<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/ScfGsmobztI/AAAAAAAAAoE/ZoSqa6-0G4c/s1600-h/IMG_0002.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wwYnG2NVG2A/ScfGsmobztI/AAAAAAAAAoE/ZoSqa6-0G4c/s400/IMG_0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316436354720845522" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I went back to India. My sister-in-law has been there since January, her fourth year of teaching in Chennai during the winter months. This time I stayed with her in a very nice little apartment in Nungambakkam, instead of the other way around. She had taken a temporary membership at the Madras Club, so even got to swim in their gorgeous and chlorine free pool a few times! The mosquitoes were bothering her terribly, but they hardly touched me. Guess my blood was too thick from the cold weather... (in the picture you can see Roberta with her ubiquitous and trusty mosquito zapper!) </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Very little in Chennai had changed in the 14 months since I had last been there, though I immediately noticed the lack of hoardings (except political ones, of course) that had resulted from a recent court ruling. The overpass near the airport and Guindy was finally complete. Other than this, during my 12 day stay, I often felt like I was in a time warp--as if I had never left. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The trip provided a welcome respite from Michigan winter, and it was great to see everyone again. Roberta and I took a trip over to Cochin and Munnar. I had been to Cochin a couple of times, but never to Munnar, a hill station about 3 hours from the airport. I have posted the photos from this trip on Flickr (above) and a selection on Facebook as well. It rained while we were there, and the lush greens of the tea plantations came out marvelously. Roberta was anxious to take photos of "ladies picking tea" and we were not disappointed. On the day we toured the area, we passed a group having a morning tea break, and then later on a group that was picking in the rain--complete with their rain garb. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">I had been to Darjeeling before, and expected Munnar to be similar in terms of the tea estates. But there were important differences. Like Darjeelling, tea had been introduced to Munnar by the British. But we looked in vain for the high grade and "tender tip" tea that I had found in Darjeeling. Munnar is at a lower elevation--the highest plantation is about 7000 ft above sea level--and the really high grade tea grows at elevations above this. Still, the tea was very good. The plus about Munnar was the spice plantations. We toured one, and saw nutmeg trees, cardamom, cinnamon, and vanilla beans, all being grown and harvested. The vanilla plants were particularly interesting because vanilla is pollinated by the hummingbird, which isn't found in India. Therefore, pollination is done manually, and is quite an intricate and delicate process (as you might imagine from contemplating how small the beak of a hummingbird must be....) At a fraction of the price you would find in the U.S., I bought spices and brought them back (you need to declare them but Customs was quite accommodating). </span></div><div><br /></div></div>nrednoreply@blogger.com1